How to Crash a Killer Bash (32 page)

Flight was not an option.

But I still had fight left in me.

Sam pushed himself up using an exhibit for support and limped the few feet that separated us, grimacing with each step. The bloodstain on his pants had spread. In his hand he held the bloody statue.

It would only take one last blow.

And there’d be no one to tell the cops what had happened. Except Sam.

He closed in. I scrambled back until I hit a wall.

Trapped again.

Sam raised the heavy, lethal weapon.

Leaning with my back against the wall, my hands behind me, I waited until he was about to bring the statue down on my head. Then I rolled to one side, kicking out at Sam’s wounded leg with my remaining Mary Jane as I turned.

Through my shoe, I could feel the pen dig deeper into his thigh, until it hit bone.

His scream was deafening. He grabbed his leg and crumpled onto the floor.

“Freeze!” a voice called from across the room.

Someone stood in the entryway, shining a flashlight on me. For a moment the light blinded me. I could only tell that there were several others. Reinforcements? The beam swung away, toward Sam. I blinked, clearing my vision, and saw Susan, the security guard. She was flanked by Detective Melvin and Brad Matthews.

Two uniformed cops entered the room, guns drawn.

Susan turned her flashlight back at me and pointed. “That’s her! She’s the one who killed Ed and the others.” She started over toward Sam, lying a few feet away and moaning, but Melvin held her back.

“Stay put,” he ordered.

“But—”

“I said, stay put!” Susan stepped back.

Brad rushed over to me while Detective Melvin got on his phone and called for an ambulance.

“Presley!” Brad said, kneeling down beside me. He eased me up to sitting and propped me gently against the wall. Pulling out a pocket knife, he leaned behind me, cut the plastic fastener, and freed my hands.

I rubbed my wrists where the plastic had cut into them. Brad took my arm and helped me stand.

“Are you all right?” He carefully pushed my hair out of my face, revealing the head wound.

“My head hurts,” I said. “And my leg.”

“We need to get that gash taken care of.” He pulled off his T-shirt, folded it, and pressed it against the wound. I held it in place.

“How did you know I was here? Did that security guard call you?” I nodded toward Susan, who stood wide-eyed as she watched the two officers take charge of the scene.

“Nope. Got a pocket call.”

“A what?” Feeling dizzy, I thought I misunderstood him.

“Pocket call. Haven’t you ever gotten a call on your cell, and when you answer it, you can hear someone talking but they don’t seem to be speaking to you? That means they bumped the phone and it dialed the last number automatically.”

“You’re kidding.”

“As a matter of fact, I’ve gotten several from you.”

I blushed. What had he inadvertently heard? The rush of blood to my head made it throb harder. I decided I didn’t want to know.

“Yep. At first I thought you had your TV on. But then I recognized your voice. I heard the whole encounter between you and Sam. I called Melvin, and here we are.”

Brad followed the ambulance to the hospital. I’d protested against going—I was sure I was fine—but he and Detective Melvin insisted, and I was too exhausted to argue. If I wanted to fight with these two, I had to be on my game.

Once the ER doctor had checked me, done some tests, stitched and bandaged my head, and given me a bunch of drugs, he gave me permission to leave. Brad waited for me the entire time, and drove me back to my condo. Once inside my home, he made me lie on the couch while he fed the cats (after taking his allergy pills), brewed a latte (for taking my own pills), and whipped up an omelet with whatever he found in my neglected fridge (three eggs, a few wilted spinach leaves, some slightly moldy feta cheese, and a jar of artichoke hearts). It was the best I’d ever tasted in my life.

“So,” he said, after clearing the plates and returning with a beer. He lifted my feet, clearing a spot for himself on the couch, and sat down. Gently lifting my legs, he placed them on his lap. “That was another fine mess you got yourself into,” he said, misquoting Oliver Hardy.

“Very funny,” I said. “What did your brother say about Delicia?”

“He said she’s good. Melvin and Andrew got her released while you were in the ER. She’s at home, writing her memoirs, no doubt. She’s called a couple of times—she wants to see you in the morning. I think she wants to thank you. Or maybe ask what you did with her car.”

I grinned and let out a sigh of relief. Thank goodness Dee was free at last. I hoped a few days in the slammer hadn’t changed her too much. “Thank your brother for me, will you? You know, I ran into him at the museum gift shop. He was looking at pictures of the artifacts. I thought he was just wasting his time, but I later realized he was onto something—the real dagger—which got me thinking. Anyway, I’d like to thank him in person. Maybe we could all meet for dinner next week?”

“You, me, Andrew and Delicia? You mean, like a double date?”

“Hardly. I have a feeling Dee won’t be dating anyone soon. Not after the way Corbin treated her, dropping her like she was Jennifer Aniston. Jerk. He just dated her to irritate his mother. Who turned out not to be his biological mother.”

“Poor guy. He was already screwed up. And then to find out after all these years that he’s adopted, that his mother’s best friend is his real mother . . .”

“I know. No wonder he took off and disappeared for a while, hiding on his dad’s boat instead of staying at his own house. I guess he just wanted some time to himself and figured no one would come looking for him there.”

“How did they find him?”

“Just good police work. Melvin’s no dummy, even though you might not like him. He said the place was a mess of pizza boxes and beer cans. He arranged to have Corbin go to a fancy clinic to get some counseling. Figured he could afford it, since Corbin will inherit Mary Lee’s money. Andrew said he’s the sole beneficiary.”

“I’m just glad he finally turned up. And glad he’s getting some help.”

Brad took a swig of beer and gently rested the cold bottle on my bruise, soothing the pain. “So how did you figure the murderer was Sam the security guard?”

“Like security guards, party planners spend most of their time behind the scenes, so they often see things others don’t,” I said, using what I thought was a mysterious Gypsy-like voice.

Brad rolled his eyes.

“Okay, well, first of all, he talked about his financial troubles a lot. Second, he was in the vicinity of all the murders. Third, he knew about the ongoing investigation—”

“Thanks to you, I might add. You told him everything the police were doing.”

I made a face. “I thought he could help me if I shared my information. That’s why I told him so much. After all, he was on the inside of the museum and had keys to places I needed to go.”

“Loose lips . . . ,” he said, then licked the beer off his own loose lips.

I suddenly had an urge to kiss those lips.

“But it was when I finally started to figure out what was on that missing last page and saw his name—Wo—that things started to come together. At first I thought it was the beginning of a name. But when I saw Sam, it all fell into place. Up until then, I didn’t even think of connecting him to the murders. But after I thought about it, I realized he had motive, opportunity, and method.”

“So he made the phone calls and stole your mom’s purse?”

“Yep—apparently wearing a red wig—all to try and intimidate me.”

“He slashed your tires on the MINI and cut the brakes in the Smart Car?”

“Apparently, he’s quite handy. He also disabled the cameras upstairs, opened the exhibit case, took the weapon, sneaked into the crime scene room, stabbed Mary Lee with the dagger, and then replaced it in the case. He figured it was the perfect place to hide the murder weapon. No wonder the police couldn’t find it.”

Brad rubbed his chin thoughtfully. I still missed the soul patch. “Obviously he had a key to the side door. He must have locked it after Delicia went in to leave her fake dagger. She was the perfect foil because he’d overheard her say she wished Mary Lee was dead.”

Cairo jumped up on my lap, begging for attention. I smoothed his fur while I pondered the loose ends. “Sam killed Mary Lee because he thought she’d conned him out of all his money. When he realized Jason was the mastermind, he bludgeoned him to death.”

Brad downed the rest of his beer and set it on the end table. “And he killed the security guard . . .”

“. . . Ed Pike, because Ed must have found out something incriminating,” I said, finishing his sentence. “Maybe he saw Sam fooling around with an exhibit case on the monitors or found that last page of the ledger.”

“I’m not sure we’ll ever know. What I do know is, you were going to be his next victim.”

That shut me up for a moment. Brad was right. Sam Wo wanted me out of the way because I was getting too close. And he probably would have killed anyone else who threatened his freedom. Typical of those with extreme OCD who want everything orderly and perfect. But suspecting him of murder wasn’t exactly something I could tell from observing his black shoes.

“How did you find the last page of that list?” Brad asked.

“I asked Sam to let me into Mary Lee’s office again, figuring since she hid photocopies of the papers in her locker, she might have hid the original somewhere else. But it was Sam who hid the ledger under her desk. He must have done it while I was checking the filing cabinet. He tore out the last page, then planted that note inside about Jason finding out about the adoption so I’d discover it. What Sam didn’t realize was, Jason had pressed so hard when he wrote the last page of names that he left an indentation in the cover. An indentation that I traced onto paper.”

“How did Sam get hold of the original ledger?”

“He had access to every nook and cranny in the museum. I suppose he went snooping through Mary Lee’s stuff when he realized he wasn’t getting his money back. He must have found it.”

I thought about the chain of events and wondered what was going to happen to Sam after he got out of the hospital. In spite of everything, I felt sorry for him. He’d been pushed to the brink, losing nearly everything dear to him. But I also felt sorry for Corbin, who’d lost his adoptive mother and father. Which reminded me—there was still one piece missing.

“How’s the dog?”

“Butch?”

“You’re kidding! You can’t call him Butch. Mary Lee would roll over in her grave.”

“I can’t call it Chou-Chou! Yaps all the time. Thinks it can sleep on my bed. Pees every time I walk in the door.”

“That means he’s excited to see you.”

“Yeah, well, like I said. He’s a pest.”

“So are you going to keep him?”

“Hell, no. I’m going to give it back to Corbin when he gets out of rehab. If he doesn’t want it . . .”

“You can’t take it to the pound!”

“What, you want it?”

“With my three cats? It wouldn’t survive the night. Although maybe we could set up a playdate . . .”

“Yeah, right.”

“Actually, I know someone who might take it, if Corbin doesn’t.”

“Your mom?”

“She can’t have pets at the care facility. I was thinking Delicia. It would make a good watchdog, don’t you think?”

My cell phone rang. I pulled it out of my purse and answered it.

“Hi, Mom,” I said, wondering how much she knew about what had happened. I hesitated to fill her in, but she had a way of finding out stuff through her network of friends.

“Presley, glad I caught you. You know that party you hosted the other night?”

“The mystery event at the museum?”

“Yes. Did you ever find out who murdered Mary Lee?”

“Yes, Mom. . . .” I decided not to give her the full story over the phone. I’d tell her about Sam Wo in person. “Uh, the police have the killer in custody.”

“Oh, thank goodness. I was worried they might blame you for it again. Is your friend Denisha out of jail now?”

“It’s Delicia, and yes, she’s out, thanks to Brad’s brother.”

“Good. Well, listen. I met a man at that party you hosted—a security guard, I forget his name. Anyway, he’s not my type, you know? I wondered if you could let him down easy for me. He seems to be a friend of yours.”

“Sure, Mom. I’ll take care of it.”

“Oh, good, because I met someone else, here at the center, and it turns out his son is looking for a party planner to set up an event for his big high-tech corporation.”